Chapter 22 #2
“If I had a dime for every time a guy complained about romance novels,” Quinn spoke up quickly. “I say there’s nothing wrong with raising the bar. If they had it their way, romance would mean taking the trash out once a week and leaving the toilet seat down!”
The table laughed, and Quinn steered the conversation on, but Poppy’s heart was aching.
She’d heard Cooper’s tirade against her work before, but she’d thought it was behind them.
That the time they’d spent together had changed his tune, and opened his eyes to the real life love stories happening all around them.
Like theirs.
“Excuse me,” Poppy said softly, pushing back her chair. “I’ll be right back.”
She wove through the dining room. There was no sign of Cooper at the bar, but she glimpsed him through the window, pacing in the alleyway out back. She opened the door and stepped outside, and the cool air hit her in a rush.
She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering.
“What was that?”
He turned, his expression tight. “What do you mean?”
Poppy exhaled. He was standing right in front of her, but somehow, it felt like miles between them. “I don’t want to do this,” she said, trying to be strong. “Bicker about why you just attacked me in front of everyone. Because we know that’s not the real problem here.”
Cooper’s shoulders seemed to slump.
“No. It’s not.”
And with those simple words, her worst fears were confirmed. It wasn’t all in her mind. This was it, she realized. The edge of the cliff.
Pain sliced through her chest, but she couldn’t walk away. “What happened?” she asked softly, her heart aching. “What did I do wrong?”
Cooper looked up. “You?” he said, and she saw the pained regret on his face. “No, Poppy, this isn’t about you. I’m sorry, but . . .” He stopped himself, and Poppy was left to fill in the words he couldn’t bring himself to speak.
But this was just a fling, after all.
But she never mattered to him the way she’d so desperately hoped.
But Poppy was all alone, again.
She swallowed back the tears already stinging in the back of her throat. “You said you wanted this,” she argued. “You were the one who kissed me, made love to me. Was it all a game to you?”
Cooper flinched. “No. God, no. I’m sorry.” He looked at her, so anguished it made her want to take his hands and hold him tight, but it was like there was a force field around him, keeping him back. “I don’t know what to tell you,” Cooper said with a sad smile. “Maybe we’re just not meant to be.”
“No.” Poppy was surprised how loud her voice rang out, but she wouldn’t let him do this. “You don’t get to say that. We’ve barely even started. We haven’t tried—”
“What’s the use?” Cooper cut her off, harsh. “This can’t go anywhere. Isn’t it better just to call it quits now, before anyone gets hurt?”
Poppy stared at him in disbelief.
The breakups she’d written in her books were always big, dramatic scenes. Shouting and weeping, begging and rejection. But now she realized she’d gotten it all wrong.
Her heart was breaking, and it didn’t make a sound.
“Is that what you really want?” she whispered, holding back tears.
It felt like yesterday that she’d woken, curled in his arms as the sun rose outside the windows.
For a moment, she’d been suspended in that golden, sleepy haze, not sure if she was awake or still dreaming, until he’d pulled her closer and buried a kiss against her bare shoulder, and she’d realized that for once in her life, the dream of feeling so safe, so connected, hadn’t melted away with the first dawn light.
It had been real. She’d felt it—felt his arms holding her, and his heart beating steadily in his chest—and believed it was the beginning. That she’d finally found the love she’d been hoping for, the possibility of forever in his eyes.
But she was wrong. The possibility crumbled away, leaving nothing but a man who couldn’t bring himself to look at her.
“It doesn’t matter what I want.” Cooper’s reply was hollow. “This was always how it was going to end. I’m sorry,” he said again, finally meeting her gaze. “But you’ll see, you deserve better than me. You deserve everything.”
He bunched his hands in his pockets, and glanced back to the restaurant. “Send my apologies to Quinn and everyone,” he said, stilted. “I think it’s best if I go.”
“Cooper . . .” His name caught in her throat. She wanted to say something, find a way to break through this wall he’d built between them, and somehow understand why he was just pushing her away. But words failed her, and he turned to walk away.
“Wait!” Poppy called, before she could stop herself. “Was it real?” she demanded, aching inside. “Was any of it real? Or was I just writing us a story that never existed?”
Cooper’s face seemed to split apart.
“It was real.” His voice was gruff. “Every minute. I promise you that.”
He closed the distance between them in a few short strides and took her face in his hands. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, impossibly tender. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again, as Poppy’s head spun and her body reached to hold him. Then he released her, and turned and walked away.
This time, he didn’t look back.